


Agent Sleepington

by Narassi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, RvB Rare Pair Week, rvbrarepairweek, washnut - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 02:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10889700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narassi/pseuds/Narassi
Summary: Everyone knows Wash is tired and overworked. It's definitely A Thing that happens. All the time.Donut's the only one brave enough to do something about it (especially when "something" means literally marching the ex-Freelancer to bed).





	Agent Sleepington

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CerealMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerealMonster/gifts).



> Here's my submission for RvB Rare Pair Week!  
> Enjoy! =)

Wash leaned against the kitchen counter in Blue Base, swirling a mug of coffee in his hands and staring off into space as he made a mental list of their supplies. He’d gone through everything earlier in the morning—long before the sun was up—when he couldn’t sleep. He’d planned on going through everything with Carolina, but...then she left with Epsilon to take down the Director, so he’d done it himself. The supplies Blue Base alone had were enough to last his team another week, maybe a week and a half at best. Just a few more minutes and he would ask Sarge to do an inventory for Red Base.

Before that, though, Wash needed to get Tucker and Caboose out of bed. Caboose wouldn’t be much of an issue; the blue soldier greeted each day with a level of enthusiasm his teammates lacked. No, Wash dreaded waking up _Tucker_. The man slept naked. With no covers on. Spread eagle. Before he woke Tucker up, Wash needed to get dressed in armor to avoid his blush being seen.

Also, Wash would have to figure out how the hell to get supplies. How did the Reds and Blues get supplies before he got here? Did they go to a nearby city? Were there any cities near Valhalla? Did they have a budget, or did the UNSC pay for them? How would they get the supplies back? Did they have to get a jeep? Multiple jeeps? A pelican? Maybe—

“Wash?”

Wash startled so violently he cracked his unarmored head on the cupboard behind him and spilled his scalding hot coffee down his shirt.

"Shit!” Wash hissed, practically throwing the mug in the sink and scrambling to get his shirt off. “Oh, fuck, fuck!”

“Wash, calm down! It’s okay!” Wash belatedly realized that _Donut_ , of all people, stood in front of him. The other soldier wore no armor either and reached out to help, his hands fluttering uselessly in the air, but never touching, as if afraid to touch Wash. Donut’s face was crumpled up into an expression of worry, concern, _horror_ , causing Wash’s insides to twist uncomfortably. Was the pink soldier worried he’d lash out?

“No, I—don’t worry, I just don’t want to get burned, hang on—” Wash stuttered, fumbling with his shirt.

Donut grabbed his hands in a surprisingly strong grip. “Wash. Stop. The coffee isn’t hot.” Donut stated firmly.

“I—what?” Wash froze, confused.

“Wash,” Donut squeezed his hands, “You’ve been standing here for hours. Tucker asked me to talk to you.”

Wash blinked, then looked down at his shirt. The coffee that spilled all over his shirt and pants wasn’t burning him. It didn’t hurt. Donut was right; he must have been standing there for a while. But why did Tucker get Donut? “Tucker?” He asked dumbly.

Donut nodded. “He said he got up and you didn’t even notice him in the room. He went back into his room, and when he came out an hour later you were still in the same spot. It scared him.” Wash watched as Donut rubbed his hands gently as he spoke. “I called your name three times before you answered me.”

“Tucker’s awake already?” He asked.

“Tucker’s awake,” Donut confirmed.

Wash tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as a sigh. “Oh,” he managed. There goes the need to get Tucker out of bed. Was Caboose awake, too? Just how long had he been standing there, leaning against the counter and staring off into space? This couldn’t happen again. Wash needed to present a better picture of a leader, especially if Church and Carolina were gone.  

Donut sighed. “Come on. You need to strip!”

Wash’s brain stuttered to a halt. “What?” He squeaked, finally looking up at the other man.

Donut rolled his eyes. “You need to get out of these wet clothes!”

 “Oh,” Wash blinked, “Oh, right. Yes. That’s what you meant, obviously.”

Donut huffed and began pulling Wash towards his room. “Of course it is. What else would I have meant?”

Wash shook his head. “I—never mind.”

Donut pulled him inside and shut the door behind him. “Alright, now strip! I’ll get you some fresh clothes.”

Wash flushed, but obeyed, thankful for when Donut turned around to give him privacy. He took the shirt and sweatpants shoved at him and changed quickly, making sure to let Donut know when he was dressed.

Donut nodded in satisfaction. “Much better. Now come over here and lay down with me.” He gestured to the bed.

Wash’s brain stuttered to a halt again. “Wait, I need to—”

“Nope!” Donut interrupted with a shake of his head, “You come over here right now, mister!” He began to pull the covers back.

“Donut,” Wash protested, “I need to get going—I need to get dressed _in armor_ and get going. I have to—”

“Wash,” Donut spun on his heel to face him, “stop. Slow down. What you _need_ is to lie down and get a decent amount of sleep for once.” Donut marched over and placed his hand on the small of Wash’s back, pushing gently. “Come on. I’ll stay with you and see if it helps. But first, you need to lie down.”

Wash gave in with a small sigh and lay down against the wall. He draped himself halfway over Donut when the younger man crawled in with him. Wash ended up with his face resting on Donut’s shoulder, one arm squished between them and the other flung across Donut’s chest. Donut reached an arm around to rest on his back, and lifted the other to play with his hair. Wash melted further into the bed.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Wash mumbled.

“I know I don’t,” Donut said softly, “but I want to. Because you’re my boyfriend, and I want to make you happy. If staying with you for a few hours guarantees you’ll get a reasonable amount of sleep, then I’ll gladly stay with you.” Donut plopped a kiss into his hair. “You deserve to be happy and well-rested, you know.”

Wash hugged him as best as he could. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome. Now what were you worrying about getting done today?” Donut asked.

Wash’s brows furrowed. “I did an inventory this morning, before you guys were up. We only have the supplies necessary to last another week. I—I need to figure out how to get more supplies, and how much Red Base has in storage, and—”

“Wash,” Donut hushed, “it’s okay. Let me talk to Sarge? I have my datapad here.” He waved said datapad for emphasis. “I can at least get you started, okay?”

Wash sighed, but nodded anyways. “Okay. I trust you.” He buried his face further into Donut’s chest.

Donut nudged him. “Now, what were you doing awake early enough to complete a full inventory of Blue Base before anyone else was up?”

Wash winced. Busted. “Um. Couldn’t sleep?” He didn’t mean for it to sound quite so much like a question.

Donut hummed disapprovingly.

“I—no, I’m serious. I had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep.” Wash said softly.

 Donut was quiet for a moment. “Does this happen often?”

Wash nodded. “Most nights. Usually I don’t—sit there and stare off into space for hours.”

Donut squeezed him close. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Wash thought about it. So far, _nothing_ had helped except time. The nightmares weren’t gone, exactly, but they were less frequent than they used to be. The sleeping pills prescribed to him during his recovery had been disastrous; they kept him asleep, but did nothing to stop the nightmares, trapping him in his own dreams. What other solutions were there?

“I really don’t know,” he admitted.

 Donut patted his head. “Alright. You get some sleep. I’ll stay here and make sure no one bothers you.”

Wash nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled as he pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Donut tucked them in around him. He expected falling asleep with someone else in the room to be difficult, but was surprised to find his eyelids drooping shut. Before long, he fell asleep to the soft sound of Donut tapping away at his tablet.

* * *

 

Wash drifted back to awareness slowly. He was warm, he noticed, warm enough that he wanted to fight his slow crawl back to wakefulness. The next thing he noticed was that it was quiet. Caboose and Tucker weren’t arguing, there were no explosions, and Sarge wasn’t yelling at them from across the canyon. His brows furrowed and he shifted slightly. Then there was a hand in his hair. It was a miracle Wash didn’t flinch or wake too much further, but the touch was gentle and did nothing to raise the alarm bells that usually went off in his head when he was touched suddenly. The hand stroked through his hair, nails softly scratching his scalp. Wash hummed in contentment.

It could have been minutes or hours before Wash decided he was brave enough to face the day. When he blinked his eyes open, the hand in his hair resumed its work. He stretched languidly. He realized the warmth around him came from a person—he was laying on someone. An eyeful of a pink T-shirt brought the memory crashing back to him.

“Donut?” He asked, voice scratchy from sleep.

“Well good morning there, handsome!” Donut greeted him cheerily.

Wash looked up at his boyfriend and narrowed his eyes. “Morning?” He asked.

Donut grinned at him. “You slept all day yesterday and all night!”

Wash blinked and rubbed at his eyes. “You’re...you’re kidding.” There was no way he’d slept that long. He’d been living on two or three hours of sleep since Epsilon. The most he’d gotten was five or six hours when he’d taken the sleeping pills.

Donut shook his head. “Nope! You hardly moved the whole time. Doc snuck in here to bring me meals. You really slept soundly.”

Wash pushed himself up off of Donut so he could stretch. As nice as sleeping twenty hours was, he was stiff and a little sore. “Thank you,” he said as he settled in a sitting position next to Donut, “I haven’t slept that well in years. You really helped.”

Donut beamed at him and practically tackled him in a hug. “You’re welcome!” Donut said, muffled in Wash’s shoulder. Donut pulled back and stood up to stretch as well. “Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll see about making some breakfast?”

Wash hesitated. “You don’t have to.”

Donut just smiled at him. “I don’t mind. Now go shower! You stink.” Donut wrinkled his nose at him.

Wash laughed. “Alright, alright.”

After a satisfyingly hot shower, Wash joined Donut, Tucker, and Caboose in the kitchen.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Tucker snarked.

Caboose frowned around a mouthful of pancake. “But Tucker, Wash does not wear a pink dress!” Caboose said, but he said it with a mouthful of food so it sounded more like, “Buh Hucker, Wahh duh nof wur a pik rehf!”

Tucker slapped his forehead. “Oh my god Caboose, that’s not what I meant.”

Wash rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate of pancakes Donut held out for him, sitting down at the counter. He doused them with syrup, ignoring Tucker’s gagging sounds next to him. Caboose said something else unintelligible at Tucker, prompting a “finish chewing your food!” from Tucker. Wash snickered and winked at Donut.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said.

Donut beamed. “You’re welcome! Now that we have more supplies, I thought we’d celebrate a little.”

Wash stopped with his fork midway to his mouth. “Wait, what?”

Tucker nodded. “While you were asleep, we finally got more supplies. We just heard the rumble of pelican engines and then boom! A bunch of crates hit the ground in the middle of the canyon.”

Wash’s eye twitched. “They just...dropped supplies.” He said, deadpan.

Donut nodded, the beginnings of a smile appearing on his face. “Apparently the UNSC airdrops supplies into the canyon every two months. Sarge said that the amount of supplies they usually get is meant for a much larger group of soldiers, so we don’t have to ration them too much.” Wash put his face in his hands. “So all that worrying you were doing yesterday was for nothing.”

Wash sighed heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Tucker dropped his fork on his plate. “Wait, that’s what you were all worked up about yesterday?” He asked. Donut nodded. “Oh my god, I could have told you it was nothing to worry about!”

Wash lifted his head out of his hands. “I thought you’d never been to Valhalla before.”

Tucker shrugged. “Caboose talks a lot.”

Donut clapped his hands together, making Wash jump a little. “Now that that’s settled, eat your pancakes before they get cold!”

Wash saluted. “Yes, sir!” He shouted. Tucker laughed so hard he spat out a mouthful of pancake. Caboose dutifully snatched another two pancakes from the stack. Wash reached out and one-arm-hugged Donut around the waist. Maybe, he thought, just maybe living in Valhalla wouldn’t be so bad, especially with Donut by his side.

Unless they got bored.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr! agentfrecklelancer.tumblr.com


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